


First Date

by miladydewinter



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Revenge, turned real relationship ofc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 10:06:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12010476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miladydewinter/pseuds/miladydewinter
Summary: Isabelle and Maia decide to get back at Simon by staging a fake date.Long story short, it doesn't stay fake for very long.





	First Date

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still reading City of Fallen Angels, but my lovely friend Sarah has read the whole series already and really liked when I went "I know this won't happen, but Isabelle and Maia should go on a revenge date and accidentally fall in love while trying to make Simon jealous". She encouraged me to write this.
> 
> So, Sarah, this is dedicated to you xxx

Isabelle had been on a lot of first dates before, but this was something new.

Clary had mentioned that Simon’s band would be performing at this run-down little café that evening. It had only taken Isabelle a moment to find her phone and text Maia, and in less than half an hour they had already established a plan. Because Simon had played them both, so they were going to go ahead and play him right back.

The table Isabelle had chosen to sit at was as close to the area where the band would be performing as she could get; there was no way Simon would miss them. She examined her nails; she’d chipped the varnish on her right ring finger backflipping over a wall earlier, and needed to inspect the extent of the damage. Every so often she’d glance up towards the door, waiting for a certain face.

She didn’t need to wait for very long. Maia entered the café with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her hoodie, amber eyes scanning the room. Isabelle waved her over.

“Did you have to dress like that?” Maia said, sitting down opposite her. “I feel underdressed.”

Isabelle looked down at her lacey black dress. She hadn’t thought it was one of her more formal pieces. “I always dress like this.”

“I know.” Maia reached forward to take the menu from the centre of the table and opened it out. “Have you ordered anything yet? I’m starving.”

“I wanted to wait for you.”

Maia peered at her over the top of the menu for a moment, and then smiled. “That’s sweet. I think I just want a BLT. And a pepsi.” She passed the menu across the table to Isabelle. “What do you want? I’ll pay.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll pay.” Isabelle said, lifting the menu to hide her eye roll.

“You can pay for our second date.”

“ _You_ can pay for our second date!”

“How about we split it halfway? I pay for mine, and you pay for yours. Seem fair?”

Isabelle glowered at the menu. “Fine.”

“Quick, the waiter’s coming over! What do you want?”

Isabelle lowered the menu and waited for him to approach, smiling sweetly at him and saying, “I’d like a chicken pasta salad and a glass of lemonade, please.” The waiter stumbled over his words and dropped his pencil twice as he hurried to take down her order. 

“Excuse me?” Maia prompted. 

He looked at her with surprise, as though only just realising she even existed. “Oh, um, yes. Sorry. What can I get for you?”

She relayed her order in a bored tone, although still retained her manners, and waited for him to go before leaning across the table and whispering, “Do guys do that around you a lot?”

“Do they not do that around you, then?” In any other circumstance Maia would have probably taken it as a slight against her, but Isabelle seemed genuinely confused.

“No. I’m not… like you. I’ve only ever had a few boyfriends, and they didn’t exactly work out.”

“Speaking of,” Isabelle pointed at the clock on the wall behind the café’s counter, “we have about ten minutes.”

“Should we hold hands?” Maia asked. “So it looks like we’re on a date?”

Isabelle put her hand on the table, palm facing upwards. “Go on then.”

Awkwardly, Maia reached forward and rested her hand on top of the other girl’s. Isabelle sighed irately and twisted her fingers through Maia’s.

The waiter emerged from the kitchen with their drinks. They smiled sweetly and thanked him, and Maia might have made a point of squeezing Isabelle’s hand a little bit tighter. “For show,” she insisted, once he was gone.

Their food arrived in much the same way- innocent smiles, polite thank yous, and two very strong girls holding each-others hands in a death-grip- just as Simon’s band filed into the small lounge area and began to set up their equipment.

“Dude, aren’t they your girlfriends? You never told me they were gay,” Eric said quietly, although he was close enough to them that the girls could hear his every word.

Simon looked over at the table and his eyes widened almost comically; he looked like a frightened rabbit. Isabelle and Maia shared a smug smirk.

“That’s so hot,” Eric said.

Simon elbowed him. “Shut up.”

They began to play. Maia and Isabelle kept their left hands intertwined on the table-top, eating with their rights.

It was between the second and third songs that Maia leaned forward and whispered, “I have an idea.”

Isabelle leaned closer, knowing that it could only help their façade. “I’m listening.”

“Pick up your fork, and feed me a bit of your salad. I’ll keep an eye on the stage and squeeze your hand when he’s watching.”

Isabelle smiled wickedly. “Oh, that’s good.” She pulled back, maintaining their hand-lock, and continued to pick at her salad.

Maia, who had already finished her sandwich, settled back into her chair to watch the performance.

Isabelle waited for the promised squeeze, and then stabbed a piece of chicken on her fork for Maia to try. She held it out. “Come on,” she said. “It’s really good.”

Maia leaned forward and pulled the piece of chicken from the fork with her teeth. It wasn’t something that should have been all that attractive, and yet…

“It’s a shame he’s a vampire,” Maia said quietly, once she’d finished chewing. “I’m sure he’d be blushing so hard right now if he was alive.”

Isabelle looked over at the stage, where Simon was alternating between being extremely focused on his sheet music, and on staring at them. She looked at Maia slyly. “Sit in my lap.”

“What?”

“Sit in my lap. Trust me.”

They let go of each-other’s hands and Maia rose from her seat, making her way around the table. Isabelle had already pushed her chair back a little to make room for her, and helped her to settle down on her thighs. Maia could feel a blush rising in her cheeks.

“Put your arm around my shoulders,” Isabelle instructed, guiding Maia into position, “like that. I’ll hold you up with this arm, and keep eating with my free hand. By all means, help yourself to my salad. I wasn’t expecting them to give me so much.”

Maia, to Isabelle’s mild annoyance, did not help herself to the salad. She just sat, back rigid, eyes trained unseeingly on the band’s performance.

Taking matters into her own hands, Isabelle skewered a piece of pasta. “Open wide,” she said, bringing it up to Maia’s mouth.

Maia managed to snap back to reality in time to take the offered food before it collided with her face. “I’m sorry. This is kinda new. I’ll, uh,” she rested her head on Isabelle’s shoulder. “Is this good?”

“Perfect,” Isabelle forced out. She didn’t want to admit that Maia had very tickly hair, and that it was driving the sensitive skin on her neck crazy every time either of them moved so much as a millimetre.

“What about this?” Maia asked a few minutes (and one song) later, pressing a very quick peck to Isabelle’s jawline.

Isabelle almost dropped her fork. _Perfect_ , she wanted to say, but instead she said, “Make it last longer. We want to make sure he sees.”

Maia shifted in Isabelle’s lap and wrapped her other arm around her shoulders. Tangling one hand in Isabelle’s thick, black hair, she gently tugged her head to one side. “I’m going to need a better angle, then.”

Isabelle set her fork down and wrapped her arms around Maia’s waist. She glanced at the stage. “He isn’t looking. Wait a moment.”

Maia let out the tiniest little growl Isabelle had ever heard. “Fuck Simon.”

Isabelle’s eyes flicked away from the band. Maia was slightly taller than her at this angle, which was another new thing; Isabelle was always the tallest amongst other girls her age. “Alright then.”

Maia’s lips connected with Isabelle’s neck. The skin was already sensitive where her hair had been tickling it for the past several minutes, and it was all Isabelle could do not to moan out loud, in this very public café. Somehow she doubted Maia would appreciate that.

“They’re playing ‘I Accidentally Ate My Grandma’s Teeth’,” Isabelle said instead of crying out, although admittedly it came out much more breathily than intended. “That’s their last song.”

Maia tugged on Isabelle’s earlobe with her teeth. “Should I stop?”

“Get down.”

Maia was off of Isabelle’s lap and hurriedly rifling through her pockets for her purse almost as soon as the words had left the other girls’ mouth. She was looking at the floor, the table, anywhere but Isabelle. She felt so embarrassed.

Isabelle, for her part, seemed oblivious. She pulled a small silk purse out of her handbag, counted out the amount of money owed onto the table, and then slung her handbag over her shoulder.

“Come on then,” she said, flouncing off towards the door.

It took Maia a moment to realise she was talking to her.

In the street outside the café, Isabelle didn’t even wait for the door to close behind them before she whirled around and grabbed Maia by the front of her hoodie, pulling her towards her and forcing their lips together. Maia squeaked in surprise, but quickly fell back into the rhythm they’d set inside the café, hands rising up to cup Isabelle’s face.

“I thought I’d overstepped a line,” she confessed when they broke away for air, panting heavily.

Isabelle laughed breathlessly, pressing her forehead to Maia’s. “Sorry. I just wanted this to be ours. Not Simon’s.”

“No. No, that makes sense.” Maia pressed a quick peck on her lips. “So… we should do this again some time?”

Isabelle returned the peck. “We should.”


End file.
